Another Friday, another football game

Hudson is three for three in the sudden death playoff games. Unlike last year, with a lot of snow on the ground, this fall was unseasonably warm. Unlike last year, when the football team surely would be defeated in this fourth game, and was, mercifully ending the marching band season for a jaded old grandma, there seems little chance of a defeat tonight.

Unlike last year in the snow, tonight it is cold and raining. Somehow snow falling in the stadium lights is more bearable than rain beating relentlessly on a game where the band’s chief job is to help maintain momentum for the team, especially when they never truly were invested in the outcome of any football game. 

Adding insult to injury, the knowledge that a good number of fellow marching band members have been “called off” by their parents in order to keep the Thanksgiving holiday. I believe I am safe in saying Emily believes as I do, she signed on for the bad times as well as the good, and Liam and Joe’s parents are of the same opinion. 

So, another Friday, another football game.

But, there was no joy in my car when I loaded on my two complete opposite brothers. Joe, the pessimist, was wallowing in angst, while Liam, the optimist, would not cut his brother a millimeter of slack or sympathy. They remind me of my own two brothers, one of whom considered himself superior to the other, and shot tiny, ill disguised barbs frequently. The major difference, my brother who took the abuse was a pacifist who seldom retaliated.

Before we left the curb, Joe began a litany of worries. I thought his father’s back looked discouraged as he walked back into the house, and I soon saw why.  Liam started in on Joe at once for his negativity. Joe responded. Liam responded. Joe yelled to just shut up, he didn’t want to fight. Liam yelled to Joe to shut up first. 

I figured they still were sugared up from yesterday, so I asked Joe if he had a nice day. Yes, the best Thanksgiving on record. Liam at once asked why Joe was so negative today. Joe yelled he didn’t want to fight. Liam needled again. Blows were exchanged, an interesting phenomena with one as front passenger and the other in the back seat driver corner, and both strapped in. I pulled to the curb and informed them they would be returned to their father forthwith, if unable to restrain themselves.

We drove on, with silence from Joe, needling from Liam,  Joe bellowing for Liam to shut up. I told Liam to shut up a couple of times, myself, but he was as unable to lay off Joe as Joe is to not verbalize anxiety. Suddenly Joe asked I not tell his mother. I assured him she would only know if a police report must be filed.

If there is a God in heaven, this team must lose tonight. If you agree, clap your hands.